


Student Submission

by Kateli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Biting, Canon Compliant, Coming Untouched, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Kink Discovery, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Sub Yuri Plisetsky, Unnegotiated kink play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13284255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateli/pseuds/Kateli
Summary: “What was it that you wanted to try last night?” Yuri asked.Yuuri felt his jaw drop open. He had not been expecting that. He didn’t even know what to say.I certainly can’t tell him that I wanted to try dominating him in bed so that he’d show me more respect as his figure skating coach.Yuri's been acting up at practice. It's time for Coach Yuuri to put him in his place.(Beneath him. Preferably naked.)





	Student Submission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vixen13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/gifts).



> This is my Secret Satan gift to [Vixen13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13) for The Madness server's gift exchange! <3 <3 I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you to my unintentional beta, the incredible and lovely [lillykins,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillykins/pseuds/lillykins) who helped me every step of the way, from recommended reading to tagging the final product.

Yuuri had known that practice today was going to be rough, so he’d texted Viktor and Mila to meet him at their usual spot. Normally, they’d meet up the night before Mila or Yuri had a day off, but this time Yuuri just needed to get drunk. He hadn’t bothered texting Georgi, who was dealing with his own relationship drama, as usual. And Yuri…

He collapsed into the booth and Viktor immediately passed him a shot. Yuuri grabbed it and knocked it back. The burn of vodka had become second nature over the years, but he still winced as it went down.

“I thought you might need that!”

Yuuri tipped his head back, groaning at the ceiling.

“It’s not getting any better, then?” Mila asked, propped her chin in her palm.

Viktor slid another drink across the table to Yuuri.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked.

“It’s strong. Drink up!”

So Yuuri did. He’d decided to give Yuri the day off tomorrow, anyway. It probably wouldn’t improve Yuri’s behavior, in fact he’d probably see it as a reward of some kind. But Yuuri just needed a break.

“I told you it was a bad idea to sleep with your student, Yuuri,” Viktor said with a wry grin.

Yuuri groaned again, this time putting his forehead directly onto the sticky table top.

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Viktor,” Mila chastised. “They’re both adults, and if Yuri would just start acting like it, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I know, I know,” Viktor said, raising his hands in defeat. “But maaaaybe it would be a good idea to, y’know, stop?”

“But Yuuri gets horny when he’s frustrated! That’s how he got into this mess in the first place!” Mila said.

“What?!” Yuuri yelped. He looked back and forth between his two friends, both giggling.

“Believe me, I know what makes Yuuri horny,” Viktor said with a wink. “Why do you think I used to press his buttons so much?”

Yuuri downed half of whatever was in his glass in a single gulp, making his head spin.

“Maybe you could use that horny frustration, Yuuri,” Mila said, tapping a finger against her cheek in thought.

“Would you stop saying that!”

“After all, you still managed to win plenty of gold medals when you were fucking Viktor…”

“Yeah he did!” Viktor cheered, holding up a hand for Yuuri to high five, which went ignored until Mila slapped it for him.

“Yuri already wins plenty, that’s not the problem,” Yuuri said. He was starting to regret inviting them to drink with him. He should’ve just come to the bar alone, but he knew if he’d done that, he’d have ended up texting a certain someone, and that’s definitely not what he needed right now.

“You know, I think I might have some insider information that could be veeery useful...” Mila said conspiratorially.

Viktor clapped his hands together, leaning towards her eagerly.

“When he was drunk once, Yuri told me why he and Otabek broke up.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. Yuri had always remained tight-lipped on the issue, and he and Otabek hardly even spoke anymore.

“You remember how Otabek used to dote, and obviously Yuri loved the attention, but apparently in the bedroom, it was too much. Otabek would go along with whatever Yuri wanted, which he liked a lot at first, but then it got… boring. So Yuri broke up with him.”

Yuuri mulled this over for a moment. “Okay, so their sex life was boring? What does that have to do with me?”

“Ooooh, Yuuri, is your sex with Yuri  _ very exciting?” _ Viktor asked, his smile taking on a heart shape in his excitement.

“I’m not answering that,” Yuuri said, feeling heat rise in his face and ears. “The point is, Yuri and I are not in a relationship, so I don’t really care if he gets bored and moves on.”

Viktor pouted, sitting back in his seat and taking a drink.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re like with Yuri in the bedroom,” Mila said. When Yuuri raised a skeptical eyebrow, she added, “Okay, fine, but I only know a little bit, because he only talks to me about that stuff when he’s drunk enough to be mostly incoherent. But based on what I do know, I think you might consider being a little bit more… assertive in the bedroom.”

Yuuri blinked, then slowly drained the rest of his glass. Viktor motioned across the bar for another round.

“I–I… don’t think I know what that means,” Yuuri said. “And besides, like I said, that doesn’t actually solve my problem. I don’t care if he gets bored. He can do what he wants.”

“Don’t be coy, Yuuri!” Mila accused.

“She means that you should—“ Viktor cut himself off as someone came up to the table with their drinks. Mila and Viktor hadn’t even finished their first round yet. Apparently it was going to be a long night.

“—dominate him!” Viktor resumed, once they were alone again.

“Ugh, Viktor! How can you say things like that so casually, in that cheerful tone of voice!” Yuuri said, covering his face with his hands.

“Yuri’s not stupid, he wouldn’t get involved with his coach if he weren’t serious about it,” Mila said, returning to the issue at hand.

Yuuri glared at her through his fingers.

“I’m not saying he’s in love with you or anything!” she explained. “I mean, my point isn’t that he’s going to get bored with you. I’m thinking that maybe if you tried something different in bed, he might stop acting out at the rink. And maybe if you made him submit in that way… he might cooperate more as a student?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works, Mila,” Viktor said, index finger coming to rest on his lips. “Those kinds of dynamics are supposed to be controlled, not exploited.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of him,” Yuuri agreed.

“I’m not saying you should jump straight to choking him or anything!” Mila argued. “And did you not hear what I said about him and Otabek? He all but told me that he wanted Beka to take charge.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes to his glass, swirling it so the ice clinked together.

“He just doesn’t know how to talk about these things,” she continued.

He sipped his drink as they descended into silence. He wasn’t really considering this, was he? Yuri shouldn’t respect him at the rink because of what they did together when they hooked up. He should respect him because he’s his coach!  _ Who am I kidding, nothing is that simple with Yuri,  _ he thought bitterly.

“I should probably just end things,” he muttered, more to himself than the other two.

“I don’t think that’s going to solve your problem, Yuuri. It might even make things worse,” Mila said. Viktor stayed silent, index finger still pressed to his lips.

Mila pestered him with increasingly ridiculous ideas as they consumed more alcohol over the next couple of hours: “Let’s go shopping for leather outfits tomorrow!” “Okay, fine, how about some simple props then?” “You’re no fun at all, Yuuri!” She and Viktor made plans to visit a couple of sex shops. Yuuri had a feeling they’d be presenting him with some kind of kinky gift basket next time they drank together.

By the time Yuuri made it home, he was pleasantly drunk, although his dark mood hardly allowed him to enjoy it. He pulled out some leftovers and settled down on the couch with a glass of water, hoping to avoid a hangover the next day. At least he could sleep in a little bit in the morning.

His phone buzzed.

From Yuri: _ Come over _

Yuuri let out a long sigh. It was always Yuri’s flat, usually when Yuri wanted. Maybe Mila was right. Even if he didn’t try to… dominate him, he could at least take more initiative in this way.

To Yuri:  _ too tired _

He dropped his phone next to him on the couch, leaning his head back. He had to set some boundaries. Yuri shouldn’t expect him at his beck and call.

His phone buzzed.

Form Yuri:  _ Whatever _

“Or: okay, get some rest! See you on Thursday!” Yuuri muttered to himself.

He felt irritation bubble up inside as he stared down at Yuri’s dismissive text. Yuri was usually rude, but after the day he’d had, Yuuri was ready to go off. He placed his phone face down on the coffee table. He shouldn’t bother responding. But if Yuri were here, Yuuri would give him a piece of his mind. He’d tell Yuri that he couldn’t treat him that way, and that if he wanted to continue their relationship on and off the ice, he’d have to show more respect. Yuri would probably laugh viciously at that and get up in Yuuri’s space, close enough that he’d have to look down his nose at Yuuri, to show him how much taller he is than his coach. Yuuri wouldn’t back down. He’d glare up defiantly–

Wait… Yuuri was the  _ coach _ . Yuri was the one being defiant. Yuuri would glare up  _ assertively,  _ and then he’d grab Yuri by his collar and pull him down so they were at eye level and stare him down and then he would shove his tongue into Yuri’s mouth and…

_ Shit. Fuck. _

Mila and Viktor were right, he  _ was _ getting turned on by his frustration.  _ Damn it.  _ He glared at his phone, taunting him just out of arm’s reach. He wondered if Yuri was just as frustrated.  _ Probably; he always seems to be irritated about something,  _ he mused, pleased that he’d probably annoyed Yuri with his refusal to go to him _. _

He wondered if the frustration made Yuri horny, too. He felt something curl in his abdomen, something low and dark. He wanted to back him into a corner until Yuri lashed out, and then they could take out all of this pent-up energy on each other,  _ against a wall or on the floor. Not on the bed, too far. Maybe the shower? No, we’d probably slip, we’re too desperate… _

A shower. Yuuri stood abruptly, adjusting his jeans. A cold shower.

He made it halfway to the bathroom door before stopping to glance back at his phone. But why should he deny himself? He wanted this, he wanted to put Yuri in his place, and he wanted to do it while naked.

Mila’s idea didn’t seem so terrible, after all. Or maybe he was still drunk. Before he could think twice about it, he grabbed his phone and typed out a message.

To Yuri:  _ yuo can come here if u want _

From Yuri:  _ fine _

The nearly instantaneous response tempered the nonchalance of the text. Yuuri smirked. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

Twenty minutes later, the bell rang and Yuuri pressed the buzzer to open the front door to the building. He waited until the knock and pulled the door open. Yuri brushed past him, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his leather jacket. He was wearing ripped black jeans and a low-cut purple tank top that revealed more of his chest than was probably necessary.

Yuuri found himself staring at the exposed skin. He wanted to bite it and leave a mark.

“Where to?” Yuri asked in lieu of a greeting.

Yuuri remembered his fantasy from not a half hour ago, of pushing Yuri up against the wall or straddling him on the floor, or even holding onto him as they both slipped on the wet bathroom tiles in their haste. His heartbeat quickened.

“Bedroom,” he said.  _ Great start, Katsuki,  _ he chided himself. So much for that.

Yuri headed down the short hall and crossed the living room toward the door to Yuuri’s bedroom. They hadn’t hooked up here before, but Yuri had still been to Yuuri’s flat plenty of times over the years. Yuuri followed in his wake, already feeling a bit deflated. He was already demurring to Yuri.

They started off slow, kissing calmly. Yuuri was more nervous that usual, but Yuri seemed particularly blasé tonight.  _ I guess I was wrong, he wasn’t bothered by my refusal in the least. He’s barely paying attention. _

Yuri scooted up the bed, pulling Yuuri with him, sliding their tongues together and pushing his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, gripping his back lightly. Yuuri settled on top of him, careful not to put too much weight on him. Yuri was taller but still thinner than Yuuri.

Somehow, even though he was on top, Yuuri felt like Yuri had all the control, dictating the speed and rhythm of their kisses. He decided to make a move, turning his face and kissing down Yuri’s neck, across his collar bone, to that pale expanse of skin he had admired earlier. He introduced his teeth, scraping lightly, then sucking, and Yuri sighed above him, moving one of his hands to Yuuri’s hair, keeping his head in place, in control once again. Yuuri bit down in annoyance. Yuri yelped, releasing Yuuri’s head, pulling him back up and locking their lips together again.

Their kisses became more frenzied, their breaths hurrying and hands groping at waists. Yuuri pulled back. Yuri’s perfectly symmetrical, pointed and polished features stared impassively up at him. Yuri’s hair was already a tangled halo around his head. With his pinked cheeks and bright eyes, he did look like an angel. Too bad he was such an asshole.

Yuuri tugged on the tank top until Yuri got the picture and raised himself up so it could be whipped off and onto the floor. Yuri propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Yuuri kissed and nipped down his torso. Yuuri reached his abdomen and dipped his tongue into Yuri’s belly button, eliciting a small gasp, before reaching up to unbutton Yuri’s fly, yanking his briefs down with his jeans. Yuri kicked them off the rest of the way, his cock bobbing with the movement.

Yuuri admired the sight before him. Yuri was still on his back, supporting himself on his elbows. His hair hung behind him, flowing prettily past his shoulders despite how tangled it had seemed a minute ago. He was biting his lower lip, staring at Yuuri with eyes darkened by lust.

Now Yuuri felt like he had him exactly where he wanted him.

Bolstered by this success, he ran his hands lightly up Yuri’s inner thighs, and then ran his nails down in the opposite direction. Yuri closed his eyes and dropped his head back, letting out a sigh.

Yuuri allowed himself a moment to take in the sight of Yuri’s hard cock up close. He had been surprised by Yuri’s size the first time he’d seen it. His cock was pink and long, and thicker than he’d expected. He sometimes wondered if it appeared even larger than it was because Yuri was still so wiry and lean. Yet it certainly felt big when Yuri fucked him, reaching deep inside and stretching him deliciously. Yuuri inhaled sharply as a surge of want pulsed from his abdomen to his own cock, still trapped by his clothing.

Yuuri lowered his head, kissing along Yuri’s pale, unmarked thighs. Unlike Yuuri, Yuri had somehow avoided stretch marks entirely. It made Yuuri want to ruin them. He nibbled a little, to see how Yuri would react. Yuri dropped down from his elbows with a grunt. Yuuri took that as encouragement and bit his way up Yuri’s thigh, probably not hard enough to bruise, but Yuri was squirming anyway. He reached Yuri’s hipbone and noted the exaggerated expansion of his abdomen with each labored breath. He was really getting worked up.

Yuuri liked teasing him. He continued to lick and nip around Yuri’s lower half, anywhere but where he wanted it most, until he was practically shaking.

“What are you waiting for, Katsudon? Get on with it already!”

Yuuri lifted his head and glared, pinching the skin of Yuri’s inner thigh between his fingernails  _ hard. _

“OW! What the fuck!”

Yuuri shook his head to clear it, his brain catching up with his actions.

“Sorry, I–I… wanted to try something different,” Yuuri said, eyes wide. He had left deep, crescent-shaped gauges in Yuri’s thigh.  _ At least I didn’t break the skin. _ Suddenly his imagination conjured a vivid image of red beading on Yuri’s pale thigh. Yuuri’s face heated up even more than it already had been.

“I didn’t come here to be an experiment, I came here to fuck,” Yuri growled, “So suck me off or something!”

Yuuri grit his teeth. What had he been thinking? This was a terrible idea. Yuri only ever wanted to do things his way, whether they were in bed, at the rink, or choosing where to grab lunch during their break. He should never have listened to sex advice from Mila. Yuri probably lied to her. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if Otabek had dumped him when he got sick of Yuri’s shit. 

“Nevermind, then,” Yuuri said, rolling off Yuri and turning his back on him from the edge of the bed.

“What, you’re done? Just like that?” Yuri asked, scrambling up and peering over Yuuri’s shoulder at his face.

“I told you earlier that I was tired.”

“But then you invited me here.”

“Well, I’m tired now.”

“Are you serious?”

Yuuri stared determinedly at the wall, his erection quickly softening and anxiety creeping in around the edges.

“Whatever,” Yuri said. His voice was further way; he must’ve moved to the doorway. “I’m not going home after coming all the way over here. I’m crashing on the couch.”

He slammed the door as he left the bedroom.

 

 

 

Yuuri was certain that the only reason he had managed to fall asleep at all was the alcohol he had consumed the night before. No wonder the evening had gone so disastrously. He should never have invited Yuri here while he was drunk and angry.

He should have taken Viktor’s advice from the beginning and ignored Mila entirely. He felt humiliated, like a failure. What had gotten into him, pinching Yuri like that? He couldn’t even blame Yuri for objecting. Yuuri didn’t know what he was doing, trying to dominate anyone.

He swiped his hand across his face and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear movement in the living room. Yuri must be awake.  _ I’ll wait here until he’s gone. _

The brave thing to do would be to go out there right now and end things between them. It had started out innocently enough. They’d been drunk at Yuri’s birthday party, dancing, and next thing Yuuri knew, Yuri was straddling him on the couch, and their friends were yelling at them to get a room. So they had.

It was weird at first. Yuuri didn’t know what Yuri wanted from this arrangement, and frankly he wasn’t sure what he wanted, either. His only experience with this type of situation had been with Viktor, and that had been so whirlwind and intense that it had been bound to crash and burn. But he and Yuri had known each other for years, and while Yuuri had felt like this had all come out of nowhere, it was fun. 

It quickly became clear that neither of them was looking for something serious. Yuri would invite him over, they’d do whatever it was they’d do, shower (sometimes together, sometimes not), and go to sleep. They’d shared a bed plenty of times before they’d ever hooked up, so it never felt odd. Some mornings they’d go for round two, but usually they’d just get ready and head for the rink. Or if they didn’t have practice, Yuuri would simply go home.

But after a few weeks, Yuri had started acting out during practice. He was disobedient and rambunctious, refusing to follow directions and modifying choreography on a whim. It took Yuuri some time to realize that it was a significant change and not just a series of isolated incidents. It had been Mila who surmised that it had something to do with the sex. Until last night, Yuuri had been trying to ignore the correlation entirely, hoping that Yuri would get it out of his system on his own.

Nothing special had happened at yesterday’s practice. Yuuri had simply run out of patience for Yuri’s antics. It was time to do something about it.

When the living room seemed quiet for several minutes, Yuuri deemed it safe to emerge from his bedroom. He stopped short in the doorway. Yuri was still there, sitting on the couch in his briefs. His legs were spread, elbows resting on his thighs, hunched over as he tapped away at his phone. Yuri didn’t look in his direction, but once Yuuri rediscovered the ability to move his legs and made his way across the living room toward the kitchen, he noticed in his periphery as Yuri looked up to watch him pass.

Yuuri took his time preparing his morning tea, concentrating on his breathing. He was avoiding the inevitable, he knew. Why had Yuri stayed? Maybe he wanted to end things, too. Yuuri wasn’t sure if that would be a relief or an insult. Probably both.

Stealing himself with one final deep breath, he turned back to the living room, hoping that Yuri wouldn’t see his mug shaking in his hand.

_ Shit, should I have asked if he wanted something? He always expects me to help myself at his place... _

“I think we need to talk,” he blurted, overriding all politeness instincts.

“Wait,” Yuri said, standing from his perch on the couch. He directed his gaze at Yuuri’s bare feet. Yuuri felt his toes curl without his permission. “I’m—“ Yuri paused, eyes rolling up to the ceiling, either in annoyance or in silent prayer, before starting over. “What was it that you wanted to try last night?”

Yuuri felt his jaw drop open. He had not been expecting that. He didn’t even know what to say.  _ I certainly can’t tell him that I wanted to try dominating him in bed so that he’d show me more respect as his figure skating coach. _

“I thought you didn’t want to try?” Yuuri challenged.

“Yeah, well, maybe I do now.” Yuri sighed, still refusing to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “I guess I was tired last night, too. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to try anything at all ever.”

It wasn’t an apology, but for Yuri, it was practically groveling.

Yuuri hesitated. What now? He’d been worked up yesterday but now it all seemed ridiculous.

He must have hesitated too long because Yuri finally looked him in the eye and taunted, “What, are you embarrassed? Do you have some weird fetish or something?”

“So what if I did?” Yuuri asked defensively.

Yuri regarded him with narrowed eyes, head tilted to the side. “I never said there was anything wrong with weird fetishes. I’m game.”

Yuuri’s eyes grew wide, a bit shocked by Yuri’s boldness. How was Yuri still able to needle him like that?

“It’s not a fetish. It’s just… something new.”

“You’re being vague. Why don’t you just show me.”

Yuri’s grin was feline as he grabbed Yuuri by the wrist and pulled him back into the bedroom. Yuuri managed to place his mug on the dresser by the door before he was dragged to the bed. He was left standing while Yuri crawled toward the headboard, still with that wicked grin on his face.

“So what do you want, Katsudon?”

Yuuri frowned down at Yuri’s prone form. He looked so like he had the night before, but now he was goading Yuuri in a wholly different way. Yuri wasn’t trying to get something from him this time. Instead, he was offering Yuuri the opportunity to take. He felt something stir within him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” Yuri’s smile dropped in confusion.

“Not here. Not like this.” Yuuri was surprised by his own forthright tone.

“What should I call you then?” Yuri asked, regaining some of his coy demeanor.

Yuuri didn’t have an answer for that, so instead of responding, he crawled onto the bed and over Yuri’s body. Yuuri’s blood was pounding in his veins, driving him forward. He was going to maintain control this time.  _ You’ll see. _

Yuri’s pupils were already beginning to dilate and the sight sent a shock of excitement down Yuuri’s spine. He hadn’t even really done anything yet. He suddenly felt powerful. Yuri was watching him, waiting.

He began much as he had last night, bringing his lips to Yuri’s collar bone and making his way across his chest, scraping his teeth along lightly. Yuri was still beneath him, breathing shallowly, as if he were nervous, or desperately anticipating Yuuri’s next move. Yuuri thought that kind of good behavior deserved a reward, so he took one of Yuri’s nipples in his mouth, licking and nibbling until the bud was hard between his teeth and Yuri was panting. He tweaked the other nipple with his fingers, making Yuri jerk slightly, before descending further toward his inevitable destination.

Yuuri traced a path with his fingers and mouth, down Yuri’s torso and to his hips, then continued to his inner thigh. His previous desire to destroy them with his teeth resurfaced, so he bit down without warning, pulling a startled cry from Yuri that dissolved into a low moan. Yuuri pulled back for a moment to check his work, smirking at the spotted red bruise that was already blooming there. He took his time worrying a second mark into Yuri’s thigh, closer to his cock. Yuri was writhing by the time he released the skin.

He decided he’d done enough of that for now and turned his attention to the main event. Yuri’s cock was straining against his briefs. Yuuri pressed the heel of his palm against it. Yuri let out a guttural groan, something between pain and pleasure that drew Yuuri’s attention to the sudden fullness of his own bulge.

Yuuri could see the precum dotting through the fabric of Yuri’s briefs. He poked his finger there at the tip. “Take these off.”

Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever seen Yuri move so quickly to remove a piece of clothing. The briefs were discarded off the side of the bed in a flash, and Yuri was eagerly and gloriously naked before him.

“Should I keep teasing you, Yurio?” Yuuri wondered aloud.

“Don’t call me that!”

“I will call you what I want,” Yuuri said, voice stern. He hadn’t meant to use his coaching voice, but somehow it had slipped out.

His cheeks heated suddenly, and he realized that maybe he was embarrassed, but Yuri’s eyes were still lustfully trained on him, and suddenly it was nothing to push the anxiety out of the way and take Yuri’s cock in his mouth all at once.

“Aaaaahhh~”

Yuuri had always enjoyed giving blowjobs, but this was the first time he felt strong and commanding with a cock in his mouth.

He pulled off slightly, swirling his tongue around the head and sucking thoroughly. Yuri’s legs kicked out involuntarily.

Yuuri pulled off and looked up at him. “What’s wrong, Yurio? Do I need to tie you up next time?”

Yuri’s only response was a breathy moan, which Yuuri took as an indicator of interest.  _ Filing that away…  _ He lowered his head back down, kissing his way down from the tip to the base of Yuri’s cock and then gently grazing his teeth back up. Yuri gasped but remained still, fisting the bedsheets in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I can’t tell if you liked that or hated it,” Yuuri commented. He usually didn’t speak this much during sex, but he was enjoying Yuri’s lack of coherency too much not to take advantage. Sure enough, all Yuri did was bite his lip and nod, his eyes and fists still clenched. Yuuri chuckled.

He took Yuri’s cock back into his mouth and began to bob his head up and down, making sure to swirl his tongue around the tip every so often, leading to a hitch in Yuri’s breath or a crescendo in his moans. Yuuri ran his nails down Yuri’s ribcage, leaving faint red tracks in their wake. He felt the ridges of Yuri’s bones and the firmness of his muscles under the pads of his fingers. 

Yuri began to tremble beneath him.“I’m almost– I’m gonna–“

Yuuri pulled off Yuri’s cock and quickly grasped his balls in one hand and the base of his cock tightly with the other.

Yuri’s eyes flew open, his stare accusatory as he panted heavily.

“Was there something you wanted?” Yuuri asked, tilting his head to the side.

“I– I–“ Yuri was out of breath, and it took him a moment to speak steadily. “I want to come!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Yuuri assured him with a smirk, “but not until I come first.”

Yuri shivered. His cock remained heavy against his abdomen, shining with Yuuri’s saliva and precum still gathering at the tip.

“Sit up, Yurio,” Yuuri commanded.

Slowly, as if in a daze, Yuri sat up against Yuuri’s headboard. Yuuri reached around him and rearranged the pillows to support Yuri’s back. Then he leaned down and kissed him, softly for a moment, until Yuri’s arms wrapped around him and he deepened the kiss, settling on Yuri’s lap.

Yuuri realized that he was still wearing his pajamas and made quick work of them, discarding his bottoms and briefs before peeling off his now-sweaty tee shirt. Yuri raked his eyes down Yuuri’s body, reaching forward and running his hands up Yuuri’s arms, squeezing his biceps and then his shoulders before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Yuuri settled back into his lap, straddling him, and their cocks rubbed together, causing them to moan into one another’s mouths.

Before long, they were rutting against each other frantically. Yuuri imagined that he could come just from this: the heat of Yuri’s mouth, the sweaty slide of their bodies, and the friction between their cocks. It took great effort to pull away.

Yuuri tilted Yuri forward by the shoulders, fixing the pillows again, ensuring that there was one propped behind Yuri’s head. Once Yuri was settled, Yuuri drew up to his knees and stroked his length a few times before lining up with Yuri’s mouth. Yuri’s eyes went wide, but he obediently opened his lips. Yuuri pushed into the wet heat of Yuri’s mouth, nearly losing his balance as his knees shook from the incredible sensation of it.

Yuri sucked lightly, his tongue like velvet running along Yuuri’s cock. He sucked and bobbed shallowly for a few minutes while Yuuri kept himself still by tensely gripping the headboard. He felt Yuri relax his tongue and the back of his throat and take him deeper, swallowing around him in his throat. Yuuri groaned, struggling to hold back from bucking his hips. But what if he did? What if he rocked his hips, pistoning into Yuri’s mouth and throat?

“I’m going to fuck your face,” Yuuri heard his own voice say, as if from another dimension.

Yuri’s eyes fluttered shut with a moan and he nodded his head around Yuuri’s cock, dropping his jaw even further.

Yuuri was amazed, bringing his hands to Yuri’s head, petting him gently a few times before slowly starting to rock his hips. He tightened his grip on Yuri’s hair as he increased his speed and thrust deeper into Yuri’s throat. Yuuri was still hearing his own voice as if it were coming from another world as he moaned his pleasure to the ceiling, increasing his speed as he strove toward release. Yuri gagged a couple of times, spluttering, but Yuuri kept on, refusing to grant him respite. Yuri didn’t seem to mind though; Yuuri heard him start to touch himself, and he wanted to tell him to stop, but he was so close…

When he felt his orgasm coming, he pulled Yuri’s hair roughly, drawing him off his cock, and stroked himself to finish. He came into Yuri’s still-open mouth, streaks of cum decorating his forehead and cheek. Yuri stared at him as he licked his lips and swallowed the cum that had landed there and on his tongue.

Yuuri collapsed beside him, a bit out of breath and covered in a sheen of sweat. Yuri was still fisting his cock, so Yuuri reached over and grabbed his wrist tightly. Yuri whined in protest, but released his hand, dropping it to his side once Yuuri let go of his wrist.

“Didn’t I say I’d take care of you? But if you don’t want that anymore, by all means,” Yuuri said, gesturing to his limp hand and hard cock, almost purple with Yuri’s need.

“I– Yes, please,” Yuri relented, breathing heavily. “I need you.”

He’d never said those words to Yuuri before. Yuuri felt as if the air had left his lungs for a moment. He’d felt tired, ready to let Yuri fuck him, but now he felt rejuvenated, and newly inspired.

“You’re being so good, Yurio,” he murmured, reaching to the nightstand and grabbing a bottle of lube from the drawer.

“Nnnggh~”

_ He responds well to praise,  _ Yuuri noted, slicking up his fingers. He settled next to Yuri against the headboard, spreading Yuri’s legs and reaching between them, slipping a finger between his cheeks to tease at his hole, circling the rim. Then, he pushed past the ring of muscle, crooking gently as he went, until he was up to the third knuckle. Yuri hissed, his head falling back against the pillows.

Yuri was tight and hot around Yuuri’s finger. He drew it out and thrust back in a few times before crooking his finger once again, seeking Yuri’s prostate. When his finger found the gland, he pressed and rubbed, and Yuri keened, thrusting his hips at Yuuri lewdly.

“You like that?” Yuuri asked lowly. “Why don’t you let me do this more often, then? You’re always so eager to top…”

Yuri only panted in response. His head was still back and his chest thrust forward, flushed pink and rising and falling harshly. Yuuri found himself already hardening again at the sight and sounds of Yuri coming apart around only a single finger.

Yuuri added a second finger, thrusting them in together forcefully. Yuuri cried out sharply. He scissored them, spreading Yuri’s hole and then crooking them again, the stretch allowing for a more extreme angle for his fingers. Yuri was practically vibrating around him, and when Yuuri returned his fingers to his prostate Yuri’s entire body shuddered.

Yuuri took his time with the gland, alternating between light strokes and circles of unrelenting pressure. Yuri finally brought his head back up, fluttering his eyelashes and meeting Yuuri’s eyes with a heavy-lidded gaze as he lowered his hand to his cock. Yuuri knocked it out of the way with his unoccupied hand.

As punishment, Yuuri shoved a third finger in without preamble, thrusting fast and hard.

“Fuuuuuck,” Yuri shouted, squirming his hips in an attempt to adjust to the added stretch. His head remained upright, though his eyes squeezed shut once again.

Yuuri found his prostate again, this time pressing against it repeatedly. Tears were starting to leak from the corners of Yuri’s eyes as the thrusts jolted his entire body. With a desperate cry, Yuri grabbed up his cock and began jerking almost violently, but again, Yuuri pulled his hands away.

“If you need something to do with your hands, put them on my cock,” Yuuri said.

Yuri let out a desperate sob, but he obeyed, grasping for Yuuri’s cock. But with Yuuri attacking his prostate, Yuri was not coordinated enough to move his hands effectively, so Yuuri bucked into his fist.

“Tighter,” he demanded, and Yuri squeezed him almost painfully, but it was a good kind of pain. “Yes, yes, that’s so good Yurio…”

The praise had Yuri writhing, as his moans morphed into cries with each sharp jab of Yuuri’s fingers. With his free hand, Yuuri pressed Yuri into the pillows, stabilizing his thrashing.

Yuuri felt like he was riding a high, the satisfaction leading him to the brink of orgasm much more quickly than he had expected. Before he knew it, he was coming. It looked so beautiful decorating Yuri’s chest, he couldn’t help but lean forward and lick it up. He ran his tongue across to Yuri’s nipple and bit down, and with one final nudge to his abused prostate, Yuri came, screaming, “ _ Sensei!” _

Yuuri reached for him then, pulling him to his chest and stroking his hair. Yuri was covered in both of their cum, which now smeared across Yuuri’s chest as well.

“That felt so good,” he murmured. “You were so good, Yurio.”

Yuri’s eyes were closed. He seemed to still be drifting in a post-orgasmic haze. Yuuri pressed his nose to his hairline, content to run his fingers through, detangling the silken strands.

Yuuri was brought back from his own daze a moment later when Yuri began to shiver. Spurred to action, he scrambled off the bed to gather Yuri into his arms.

“Please, no. Stay.” Yuri’s voice was weak and a little raspy from all of the yelling.

“You don’t want to shower?” Yuuri asked. “I’ll wash you. I’ll take care of you.”

Yuri shook his head, his breath shaky from the tremors.

“Okay,” Yuuri said, feeling the nerves creep back in.  _ Did I hurt him? _ “I’m just going to grab a cloth from the bathroom.”

Yuuri rushed through the door, wet a cloth with warm water, and grabbed a clean towel on his way back. Yuri was still shivering in the fetal position.

“Hey, Yuri, can you get on your back? I’m going to wipe this all off you, okay?” Yuuri asked. When Yuri didn’t respond, he ran his hand up and down his arm before nudging his shoulder until he uncurled his body and rolled over.

Yuuri quickly mopped up the cum on Yuri’s body and dried him off with the towel. He returned to the bathroom and wiped down his own chest before returning to the bed. Yuri was back in the fetal position, tears streaming down his face.

“Shit, Yuri are you okay?” Yuuri asked, reaching forward and wiping the tears off Yuri’s cheeks. His heart was pounding.

Yuri did not answer, but tears were still leaking from his eyes.

“What can I do?”

“I’m cold!” Yuri growled, his eyes snapping open. His tone, though still distressed, settled some of the anxiety twisting in Yuuri’s gut.

He pulled back the covers next to Yuri and helped him maneuver under them before slipping in himself and spooning him from behind. He ran his hands up and down Yuri’s arms, across his hips, and in circles on his abdomen. The shivers subsided a bit, but Yuri was still sniffling.

“I’m sorry, you’re okay, we won’t do it again,” Yuuri said, desperately trying to say something that would make Yuri feel better.

Yuri shook his head, then turned around in Yuuri’s arms to face him. Yuuri rubbed his back. “That’s not– no. I don’t know why I’m c–crying…” Yuri mumbled.

“So you’re okay?”

“I think so,” Yuri whispered.

“Okay. I want you to know that, um, even if I get… rough… I’m here for you. I’ll catch you.” Yuuri bit his lip. “Did you– Was it–” He was unsure how far to take this conversation right now. “Um, nevermind. We can talk about it later. Do you want to sleep?”

Yuri nodded. Yuuri wiped his cheeks again, glad to see that they seemed to have slowed. A few minutes later, Yuri’s breathing evened out, and Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

“How did you think you did?” Yuuri asked, passing over a water bottle as Yuri reached the boards.

“I think it went well,” Yuri said. “I should focus on the final step sequence, though. I was out of breath and stumbled through it a bit.”

“What do you think, Viktor?” Yuuri asked.

“I agree,” Viktor said with a nod. “I don’t think I’ll need to re-choreograph that bit, but if you don’t stop experimenting with jump combinations, you’re never going to settle the program enough to get the last part down.”

Yuri nodded, skating back to the center to resume his beginning pose, running through the step sequence until Yuuri called him back again.

“You were so good, Yuri,” he said, lowering his voice a bit. He felt Viktor stir beside him.

“Can I work on my jumps now?”

“You heard Viktor,” Yuuri chastised. “No more jumps until your step sequences are clean. Now go work on your edges while I go check in with the front about next week’s schedule.”

“Yes, Sensei!” Yuri said, eyes bright as he turned back toward the ice.

Yuuri turned from the boards to find Viktor blocking his way, eyes wide.

“You didn’t!”

Yuuri just shrugged, smirking as he turned toward the doors to the rink lobby. 

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first kink fic! I feel like I've reached fanfic-writing maturity!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


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